THE ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY-NINE

THE ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY-NINEStand forth and be counted! Steel your hearts and raise your swords on high! For the time has come for the Heaven’s to open, for the earth to tremble, and for the land to give way to the seas! Behold! For you shall be given the wisdom of what was, what is, and what is still yet to come. The wholesale slaughter of heroes. The burning at the stake of millions of innocent souls. The rise of darkness. The end of that which was once considered good and truthful, and the ultimate destruction of the kingdom on earth. You shall be taught not to believe your eyes, but instead trust in a narrative of lies. So, what say you? Have you the courage to see, or will you close your eyes and simply believe?For those with the stomach to see, gaze you now down upon the Holy City, and bear witness to courage and honor and selfless sacrifice. Bear witness to the One Hundred Eighty-Nine! With their lives, they will buy lives! With their deaths, they will achieve immortality! And in their defeat, they will bring victory!See how they stand together, steadfast warriors in armor, the banner of the King waving upon staff and pennant tied to their lances and spears. The glint of the sun reflects off their bright and shining armor making them appear to be statues made of gold. They breathe heavily behind their helmets, these chosen few and proud servants of the King. For they know that they are the thin line which must hold against the ravenous horde of demons which quickly approach. Led by the bold Captain Broden, the One Hundred Eighty-Nine faithful souls stand between the Holy City and the thousands upon thousands of unclean spirits in the service of the Unholy One. The Unholy One, for that is the description of him who had once, ages past, betrayed the King and was cast from the holy kingdom like thunder from the heights.The demons, for indeed that is what they were, still wore the guise of men, though these men had long ago surrendered their souls to the Unholy One. They had allowed their hearts to succumb to lust, greed, hatred, power and wealth. So it was thus that these men welcomed the unclean spirits into their hearts in a pact which would forever sever their ties with the King.These unclean spirits which had entered into the hearts of the wicked began to change them from the inside, darkening them and filling their souls with lies, suspicion, brutality, and a rage which could only be satiated by the blood of innocents. And it was this horde of demon possessed men, which numbered over 20,000, that descended towards the great stone bridge which led to the Holy City and the 55,000 innocents which cowered behind the walls.Across the great stone bridge which spanned the rocky ravene charged the demon possessed army, eager to breach the gates which led into the Holy City. But, behold! For there in the middle of the bridge blocking the path stood the One Hundred Eighty-Nine, with Captain Broden standing at the fore if the thin wall of shining armor! And it was here where the unholy horde clashed into a wall of steel. The multitude of the enemy availed them little, for the bridge was only wide enough to allow twenty men to stand abreast. The enemy charged forwards toward the front line of the One Hundred Eighty-Nine, the defending knights steadfastly holding shields which were as stout as their hearts. Howling with the thirst for blood, the enemy leapt upon the defenders, only to be stopped by the shields of the stalwart shield bearing knights of the first rank and impaled upon the silver spears of the knights standing in the second rank. Again the enemy surged forwards, their swords and spears crashing against the defender’s shields and again the enemy’s blood and gore stained the stones on the bridge as the knights thrust forth again with lance and spear. The bodies of many screaming enemy warriors, their entrails spilling, toppled, over the side of the bridge only to crash into the rocks in the ravine far below.But, as the demon possessed enemy were being savagely cut down, so too did the One Hundred Eighty-Nine suffer losses. The first of the heroic knights to fall was also the youngest of their number. Joakim was at the fore of the company of knights, holding back the enemy horde with his shield as his brethren behind him stabbed at the foe with lance and spear. But the enemy had gained hold of young Joakim’s shield and pulled it forwards just enough to allow an enemy spear to penetrate through his armor and thrust into his chest. The King watched as Joakim was pulled into the horde where the ravenous enemy began hacking the young knight to pieces even as he fought back desperately with his short sword. Joakim’s valiant last stand was cut short as one of the enemy, a bearded giant wearing black armor and mail, stepped on Joakim’s now bloody and gore stained armor and pressed his broken body to the unyielding stone. With arms and legs chopped away, young Joakim watched helplessly up as the giant man leveled a crossbow down at him. The powerful bolt punctured the young knight’s throat and ended his suffering.Witness now the throne room of the King, who sits upon a mighty golden throne far above the heavens. The light which radiates throughout every corner of the universe flows from He who sits upon the throne. About the throne stands seven golden staffs upon which are lit flames of eternal light and the names given to each staff are these: Faith, hope, truth, courage, charity, humility, and love.Twelve golden steps lead from the holy throne to the floor of the throne room made of white marble. Upon this white marble floor, a young knight suddenly appears, his once ruptured and blood soaked armor now replaced by a magnificently created armor the color of the purest white with a flowing red cape draped across his back. The grievous wounds the knight suffered are now healed; all traces of the crossbow bolt to his neck now completely vanished. Upon the young knight’s head is a crown of gold, and Joakim bows in the presence of his King. His heart is heavy though, as Joakim prays for the King’s mercy and blessing to be upon his father, the captain of the One Hundred Eighty-Nine, as he fights to defend the Holy City.Far below, the remaining knights continued to fight their desperate battle to hold the stone bridge which led to the city. Captain Broden’s heart burned with helpless sorrow and vengeful rage as he witnessed his son being torn apart by the enemy. Yet the battle still needed to be fought and his men still needed their leader. Behind him, thousands of innocent souls were still flooding into the safety of the city walls, and his knights were the only ones who were holding back the black tide of evil which threatened to flood into the Holy City. They had to keep the gates open for as long as possible.But, alas, the enemy was as numberless as they were relentless as they charged forwards again and again, seeking to break the One Hundred Eighty-Nine’s weakening shield wall. More of the courageous knights fell to the enemy’s steel but the demon possessed were not satisfied to simply kill a defender. The enemy would torture the screaming knight, hacking him apart with axe and sword and bathing in his blood as the knight slowly and painfully died. And in the King’s throne room, twelve more knights joined Joakim in kneeling before the King in whose name they died.Captain Broden saw that his pitifully few knights could no longer hold the bridge, as his shield wall began to collapse and his men begrudgingly started to give way. To either side of him, thousands of the enemy were descending the banks of the ravine to cross over to the other side on foot. Soon, the One Hundred Eighty-Nine would be surrounded. Broden signaled the forty archers whom he had positioned at the foot of the bridge to begin raining arrows into the unholy enemy horde while he ordered the rest of his knights on the bridge to retreat towards the city gates. Wave after wave of arrows descended upon the enemy horde as the One Hundred Eighty-Nine reluctantly surrendered the stone bridge. Dozens of the demon possessed fell, pierced through by many arrows, but many more took their place. When Captain Broden reached the end of the bridge, he took a bow from one of his archers, a lieutenant named Sundstrom.“Go,” said the knight’s captain. “Return to the city and defend her walls.”Turning, Captain Broden saw the giant who had slain his son leading the charge across the bridge, cleaving one shield bearing knight in half with his battle axe while batting another over the edge of the bridge with a mighty, black gauntleted fist. The knight screamed as he fell, crashing to the rocks below with a sickening crunch. Captain Broden drew back the bow, took aim, said a silent prayer and let the arrow fly. The giant in black armor grabbed at his throat, shocked to find an arrow suddenly sticking out of it. He slipped on the gore of the knight he had just butchered in half and fell backwards over the edge of the bridge.Captain Broden looked with heavy heart across the bridge. All forty of his shield bearers, including his son, had been slain and were being trampled underfoot by the enemy who began charging forward again. Behind Captain Broden, he felt one of his fellow knights tugging at his shoulder. He turned and stared into the desperate eyes of one of his lieutenants, a knight named Hannes.“Sir, I grieve for your loss, but we must make haste to the city gates! The enemy is almost upon us!”Captain Broden looked to the city gates. They were still opened as the last of the frightened peasantry and villagers hurried to enter the Holy City. There was not much time left to close the gates. Glancing back longingly to where his son had fallen, Broden nodded to the rest of his knights. “Quickly! To the gates!”The One Hundred Eighty-Nine retreated to the city gates with the servants of the Unholy One following closely behind, their howling and cursing echoing across the battlefield like a fetid wind. There were still a crowd of people still slowly entering into the city, and Captain Broden despaired. They needed more time to allow people to enter before the gates could be closed.Thereupon, the knight named Hannes drew forth his sword, exclaiming “See that the gates are shut, my lord! I shall hold them for as long as I can” Hannes turned to face the enemy, joined by twenty of his fellow knights. With swords drawn and banners flying, the knights were swallowed by the demon possessed horde.The surviving knights pushed and shoved the remaining folk through the gates, forcing many of them to abandon their now useless possessions and valuables as they ushered the folk through the gates. Finally, when the last person was through the gates, the remainder of the One Hundred Eighty-Nine entered the city themselves. The heavy doors of the city were closed with a thundering crash and wooden braces were slid into place as an iron portcullis slammed down behind the gates. Mere seconds later, the enemy began beating at the gates from the other side.“To the ramparts!” yelled Captain Broden to his knights. “Quickly! To the ramparts!” The remaining knights forced themselves through the terrified crowds and raced up the stone steps which led to the battlements. There, the One Hundred Eighty-Nine had previously positioned many long bows and barrels filled with arrows, crossbows, catapults, and even three cannons.Captain Broden was the first to reach the upper battlements. He breathlessly looked down from the wall, searching desperately for the courageous Hannes and the knights who chose to stand with him. Twenty of his knights lay on the ground in pools of blood. Those who were dead were being hacked apart by the enemy who seemed to find joy in defiling the bodies of the fallen knights. Those knights who were injured were being tortured in gruesome ways. Some met their end by having their bodies ripped apart as they lived. Other injured knights met their fate by being wrapped in the banner of the King then set on fire. Only Hannes remained standing, fighting atop a pile of slain enemy bodies and beset on all sides by dozens of the enemy. He was pierced through his armor by several enemy spears and as he was painfully held in place by the skewers, Hannes was shot through the head and throat by several black shafted arrows.In the throne room of the King, twenty knights dressed in pure white armor appear and kneel at the feet of their King. They are soon joined by a knight whose earthly name was Hannes, who also takes a knee before the King whom he had given his life in service.What was left of the One Hundred Eighty-Nine defenders quickly began raining arrows down at the unholy horde, as Johansson, the master of the artillery, made the cannons ready to fire. Captain Broden watched as the first of his four catapults fired. Great stones sailed over the walls, tumbling end over end to smash into the ranks of the massed enemy below. But to Captain Broden, it seemed as if one were throwing wet sand at the incoming tides. Their number and weapons were too few, the enemy too large, and the wall was too long for the knights to defend. Across the stone bridge, the enemy horde rolled battering rams, siege towers, catapults, ladders and cannons.“Johansson,” yelled Captain Broden, pointing across the battlefield which they had just retreated. “Make your target the bridge!”“The bridge,” replied Johansson. “Yes, my lord!”Already, the enemy had brought across a battering ram and several small cannons while behind them, a large siege tower filled with a hundred enemy warriors began rumbling across the bridge, pushed from behind by hundreds of slaves. Meanwhile thousands more of their warriors crossed the ravine under the bridge carrying scaling ladders. Still, what was left of Broden’s One Hundred Eighty-Nine continued their desperate fight, although they were so outnumbered that for every one arrow that they send hurtling towards the foe, twenty arrows were fired back towards the battlements. It was in this way that a score of defending knights had met their deaths, pierced through their heads, throats, and chests by enemy arrows and bolts. Already, the enemy had erected three scaling ladders and, at great cost in lives, began to climb up the side of the fortified wall of the Holy City. The knights on the ramparts drew their swords, preparing to throw back the attackers as the first of Johansson’s cannons fired.A cheer rose from the tired defenders on the wall as the first cannon shell struck behind the siege tower, knocking down part of the low wall of the bridge and throwing many of the enemy over the edge. The second cannon barked, and the shell landed in the ravine beside the stone bridge, killing many of the thickly packed enemy warriors who were still steadily advancing towards the Holy City. Johansson, the master of the artillery, positioned the last cannon himself and lit off the fuse. The cannon belched black smoke as it recoiled, the shell smashing directly in front of the siege tower. The siege tower tilted on its four large wooden wheels as it fell backwards, vomiting out enemy warriors as it collapsed across the bridge. It came down with a thunderous crash, crushing many of the slaves which had been pushing it. The stone bridge was now blocked, and it would take much time for the enemy to clear it. Most of the heavy siege weapons which the enemy had built were now trapped on the other side of the bridge.Still, the knights had little time to celebrate as the enemy’s cannons responded in a crashing voice. Enemy cannon shells impacted violently against the walls and battlements, smashing into the ramparts and destroying half of the defender’s catapults. Many of the surviving One Hundred Eighty-Nine knights had taken to sword and axe, now battling the enemy which had climbed to the top of the wall while the rest continued to fire arrows down at the horde, trying desperately to kill the ones which were pushing the battering ram to the city gates. Broden and a group of knights were at the top of one of the six ladders which were now erected next to the wall, desperately slashing and stabbing the enemy as they came up over the battlements. Johansson’s cannon’s fired again, obliterating some of the enemy’s cannons, even as enemy catapults were now raining stones and fire into the Holy City.The enemy cannons were many, however, far outnumbering the three which the One Hundred Eighty-Nine possessed. Before Johansson and his men could fire another volley, they were brought under fire by all of the enemy cannons, and that section of the battlements exploded. Seeing that his cannoneers had been engulfed in black smoke and flames, Captain Brody and his last two surviving lieutenants Sundstrom and Rikard dashed to where Johansson and his cannoneers had fought. The stone wall which had protected the cannons had been blasted away, reduced to little more than rubble, and one cannon had fallen through a hole to the ground below. All of Broden’s cannoneers had been slain, with the headless body of Johansson reduced to nothing more than a bloody mess of blood and gore and crushed armor plate. The battering ram had been brought to the city gates and the massive door began to shudder and shake. Meanwhile, the throne room of the King welcomed even more warriors dressed in gleaming white armor.The wall was lost, and should the gates to the Holy City fall, the One Hundred Eighty-Nine would be trapped upon the battlements, unable to protect the innocent folk below. With a heavy heart, Captain Broden called on his knights to abandon the battlements which were now crawling with the demon possessed, and ordered his knights to assemble at the city gates. Only ninety of the original One Hundred Eighty-Nine remained and they assembled at the wide, circular plaza facing the main city gates, their once proud and shining armor now corrupted with soot, blood, dents, and the gore of close combat. In the middle of the plaza there stood a tall slender pedestal atop which was placed the holy symbol of the King’s only begotten Son. The holy symbol, a monument made in remembrance of the holy Son’s ultimate sacrifice for mankind, stared down upon a chaotic city now being destroyed by falling rock, fire, and cannon shot as panic stricken people screamed and ran as they continued to flee deeper into the Holy City. Meanwhile, ninety courageous souls faced death as the city gates finally burst inwards and the great iron portcullis was wrenched away.Across the threshold of the Holy City came the ravenous horde. Down the stone steps of the battlement came the ravenous horde. Every demon possessed soul was filled with lust, greed, hatred, and the desire to rape, loot, and burn and it was with this passion that they charged into the Holy City. But, behold! For the passion in the heart of the knights was to defend the Holy City and to serve their King, and with weapons drawn they charged into the horde which far exceed their own number, and threw them back out of the city gates.The ancient Unholy One raged at being thrown out of the Holy City, as he was thrown out of the Holy Kingdom untold ages ago. The only begotten Son of the King described the Unholy One’s ultimate humiliation of being cast out like barack-“thunder”- falling from the heavens-“bammaw”. The Unholy One would not suffer such humiliation again and he fuelled the hearts of his followers with an insatiable blood lust towards the servants and believers of the King. Now resembling more beast than man, the demon possessed army charged the ranks of the knights once again with a renewed and brutal savagery. Broden and his knights were pushed back into the Holy City, holding the gate by the narrowest of margins, even as the demon possessed on the battlements threatened to envelope them.“My lord,” yelled Rikard, seeing the hordes descending from the captured battlements. “We cannot hold this wide courtyard! You must retreat with the remainder of the brethren! Hold the enemy in the narrow streets and alleyways. Perhaps we may yet buy the people enough time to hide or escape!”“And what of you, Rikard?” answered Broden, even as he slashed and slew the enemy right and left.“My soul rests with the King, my Lord!” answered Rikard.“As does ours!” yelled twenty other knights as they charged and slashed their way through the ranks of the enemy and fought back towards the city gates.“Go with God,” yelled Rikard as he and his knights battled deeper into the ranks of the enemy. “Save the Holy City!”And into the Teutonic Cemetery the last of the One Hundred Eighty-Nine fled, led by Captain Broden. He hoped to draw as many of the enemy after them, thus giving the people time to flee. There, the servants of the King now numbering just over sixty, fought a bitterly hopeless battle against an evil hundreds of times their size. Again and again the defenders advanced into the jaws of steel and they boldly cut down a greater number of the foe. But every time the courageous warriors advanced, more were mercilessly cut down, hacked apart by the savage horde of the demon possessed. The number of kneeling warriors appearing in the throne room of the King increased in number as the last of One Hundred Eighty-Nine were annihilated.The gravely wounded Captain Broden, his once shining armor now soaked in blood and gore and pierced through with many arrows, managed to fight his way to his own home, pursued relentlessly by the howling rage of the enemy. There, his wife and children would bear witness to his merciless death, as Broden raised his sword one last time and turned to face the enemy. He only stopped fighting when the enemy severed his head from his body. Too, his wife and children were also abused by the demons wearing men’s skin before they also suffered the same fate as their husband and father. The heads of the entire family were impaled upon spikes in front of their home as all around them, the Holy City burned.And lo, those few warriors remaining of the original One Hundred Eighty-Nine stood on the steps of the Castel Sant’ Angelo, there to make their final stand against the demon possessed horde. There were but forty-one left, led by the last of Broden’s lieutenants, the knight named Sundstrom. Up the ancient stone steps of Castel Sant’ Angelo charged thousands of the black souls, their hearts bereft of anything resembling mercy.In the throne room of the King, One Hundred Eighty-Nine knights in white armor and red cape, each with a crown of gold upon their heads, knelt before their master, every heart breaking as 40,000 of the Holy City’s 55,000 inhabitants were savagely put to the sword by the servants of the Unholy One. Monuments and statues dedicated to those who threatened the Unholy One’s power were torn down. Literature which warned future generations of the growing power of the Unholy One were burned. Those who remained faithful and loyal to the King were put to the torch, whilst the rest were beaten and intimidated, forced to surrender all of their possessions to the servants of the Unholy One.“My Lord,” said Captain Broden. “How long must we endure watching the abomination which grows and festers like a cancer upon the world? How long will you suffer the unclean spirits to spread like a disease upon your creation? When shall we return, and bring justice to this Dark Age?”“Captain of my guard,” said the King in a powerful voice that was yet filled with understanding and patience. “The time has not yet come, for my word has not yet spread to the four corners of the world. For those who have ears and who can understand, they must be given the freedom to choose between light and darkness. For if only one person chooses to turn from darkness and come to me, I shall delay my wrath.”“But, my Lord,” persisted Captain Broden. “What of the many of your children who are being slaughtered right now? What of them?”Again, the King answered with compassion and patience. “My heart will weep and break for them, for they were faithful even unto their death. And, for that, their reward will be great and their life everlasting. But greater still, my heart will weep and break for those who chose to murder my faithful and loyal servants, for their lives are forfeit and their punishment will be eternal. For them, there is no hope.”At that, there was silence in the great throne room, as ages and eons passed on earth. As great armies of evil rose, so too did great armies of the King’s people rise, and through great suffering, the King’s people had been able to turn back the tides of evil. Great leaders, servants of the King, rose to oppose the leaders of the Unholy One, and throughout every land on the planet, the armies of light fought to oppose the servants of darkness. But the cancer of darkness and evil would never be completely wiped from the earth. No matter how many thousands of heroes who fought and died to defend the good and innocent, the unclean spirits and their unholy master was ever hidden under the surface of every kingdom of man.Generations passed, and the Unholy One and his unclean spirits continued to possess the hearts of man with evil desires and lusts, ever waging war against the King’s people. And as each generation passed, the number of believers dwindled, as the hordes of the Unholy One increased. Soon, the spirit of the Unholy One began taking control of the world, and there came a time when that which was once considered honorable and just was now considered wicked and evil, while that which was once considered wicked and evil was now considered honorable and just. Those who believed in the King, those who knelt to Him and gave Him worship and praise were rounded up by the followers of the Unholy One. Men. Women. Children. All those whom the followers of the Unholy One thought would threaten their power were taken from their homes and told to renounce their faith in the King and bow to the false god. However, most of the followers of the King remained faithful to their beliefs, and the streets and rivers ran red with their blood.And for every one of His children that was being put to death, the King felt great sadness, for He loved all of them. But He stayed His wrath, for if one good person yet lived, He would not bring down His anger upon the earth, even as man’s own wicked desires was making the earth itself rebel against the sickness of the unclean spirits which man had wrought upon the planet. Nature lashed out at man with drought, hurricanes, earthquakes, and tsunamis. The moon and sun turned blood red. Famine, plague, and war ravaged one corner of the world to the other, bringing with it death and chaos. But still, none of these things seemed to bring wisdom to those infected by the unclean spirits, as they had been taught to believe that those things which they witnessed with their own two eyes were just fairy tales told in an ancient holy book.And lo, the day came when the Bay City in the corrupted land known as California crumbled and broke as the waters of the Pacific Ocean came crashing upon her shores. In the middle of this destruction, in an abandoned plaza where a cracked and breaking fountain decorated by stone seraphim and cherubim had been built, there stood a man by the name of David. He was holding the shivering form of his four year old daughter Sasha in his arms. He and his daughter were the very last believers left on earth. Alone, wet and frightened, David and his daughter Sasha died together as the frigid, 300 foot high waters of the Pacific Ocean crashed violently into them.“It is done,” said the King, in a mighty voice which shook the pillars of the Universe and caused His enemies to tremble. The King stood from his throne made of gold, his head shining brighter than the sun. In His hands He held aloft a flaming sword which reached from his mighty throne to the Heavens.“Rise, my One Hundred Eighty-Nine!” He commanded. “Turn, and behold!”As one unit, the One Hundred Eighty-Nine did as they were told, standing and brandishing aloft gleaming swords which were ablaze with holy, unquenchable, fire. The One Hundred Eighty-Nine turned, and behold! Behind each of them stood 10,000 shining, winged warriors, each garbed in pure white armor and each holding aloft a flaming sword. And behind each of these 10,000 warriors, there stood 10,000 more!The King, now astride a mighty war horse colored the purest white, radiated light brighter than a thousand, thousand suns. His voice was like thunder and was heard from one end of the Heavens to the other. “The last of my beloved children has been rescued from that unholy kingdom, and taken up into the safety my arms! Now is the time. Now the prophecy will come to pass!”The mighty King raised his sword into the sky, splitting the clouds asunder so that the earth could gaze up into the Heavenly throne room. “Follow me,” commanded the King. “For the time has come to bring forth a new kingdom!”Thus surged forth the host of Heaven, led by their King and One Hundred Eighty-Nine of His generals. And it came to pass that those on earth who worshipped the Unholy One trembled in fear. For the Unholy One bowed at the coming of the one true King. via /r/DrCreepensVault https://ift.tt/2UsHpPL